Obsolete
by Monetary Value
Summary: John and a nameless scientist are taken captive by an alien species hoping to trade the two of them for an alien on Atlantis who granted amnesty. Just a sketch to get used to writing again. ADDED EPILOGUE
1. The Story

**Just a drabble to flesh out my writing muscles which I haven't used in quite a while.**

It was dark and cold, but then it was always like that here. Cold and dark.

John pushed himself onto his side, unwilling to wake fully but completely aware of his surroundings.

John was laying on a cot, small and built for one. At one point it had been white as snow, but at the moment it was blotched with yellow and browning stains from bodily fluids. Sweat, blood, urine, spit, vomit and any other liquid yet bodily discharges. It wasn't all of John's fluids mind you, it had actually been delivered to him in that fashion and the first week John had avoided it like the plague. That is, until he the beating. He was so sore, that the small reprieve of the flattened cot would provide was worth all the filth he'd be sleeping on. After that, he figured what was the point of avoiding it now? It's not like he was given a shower, even after three months captive.

The rest of the small cell was made mostly of a concrete like structure. Rodney would probably know what it was made out of, but he was back on Atlantis and no doubt trying to find where the heck John was.

The walls were also stained and dirty, black and dark grey splotches covered two out of the four walls. One of them contained a sort of latrine for him to pee in when he felt the need. If John had to do a two, well, there was the bucket in the farthest corner for such things.

"_Dzhon, ty ne spish'?_"

That was something else, he had a roommate, not that there was room enough for the two of them, but their captors didn't bat an eye. She was Doctor Michelle Debroux, a French Russian if that made any sense. Currently she spoke solely Russian and very broken, I mean in reminiscent of _'shattered into a thousand pieces_' broken, English. Normally, like when she _didn't_ have a concussion and possible hemorrhaging, she spoke primarily English, Russian, and French while only speaking Czech and Ukrainian sparingly. She would tell you she barely grasped the last two Slavic dialects, but Dr. Zelenka was very impressed with her accent, although he was profoundly irritated by the way she pronounced her 's'. Dr. Biro tended to agree.

Truthfully Michelle wasn't even supposed to be off-world. She was just shy of 17 years, and had no field experience to speak of. However, Rodney was incapacitated – broken leg – and had insisted that the only one competent enough to even attempt to temporarily replace the great Rodney McKay was Radek Zelenka, his 2IC.

Zelenka then laughed in John's face and sauntered away after hearing John's offer. Needless to say, the Military Major was miffed, and in great irritation "enlisted" the nearest labrat walking by to accompany his team on the mission. And so Dr. Debroux became Rodney's temporary replacement for the team. Hoorah.

Being only 17(three months till actually), she didn't have a whole lot of prestige among the other Atlantis members. However, she had three PhDs and therefore knew what she was talking about; and not to mention that she tended to watch McKay like a hawk while he was in the labs. It would normally annoy the astrophysicist to have someone constantly looking over your shoulder, but as she was just a kid, well, let's just say Rodney took well to hero worship and leave it at that.

So here they were, John lying on his cot and Michelle sitting on hers, both waiting for a chance to escape or for rescue but receiving neither.

"_Dzhon,_" She repeated slowly. John looked up at her with his eyes, before following with his body. Now sitting upright on his cot, he watched her, silently urging her to continue. He had learned long ago that '_Dzhon_' was his name in Russian.

After a beat - "Yeah, Mikey?" It didn't look like she was going to continue without verbal prodding.

"_Ty v poryadke?_"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He'd learned long ago what that meant too. '_Are you okay?_' She asked that every hour or so, forgetting previously that she already asked said question. He knew what she was going to ask next too. They'd been through this many times, damn concussion.

"Yeah, I'm fine, some bruising, but I'm fine."

John didn't have much of a chance to say anything else as their _kind and benevolent_ hosts chose that moment upon which to enter John and Michelle's humble abode.

They approached without a word, and Michelle, in her eyes never having seen them before, screeched and backed into a corner. It was futile as the encroaching aliens grabbed her by her hair, and tossed her out of the room with a hard thud, sound of skull meeting concrete flooring was loud to John's ears. He was grabbed by the scruff of his neck too and shoved out of the room and straight into the dimly lit hallway.

Michelle laid prostrate on the floor, dizzy and barely conscious. The concussion made her weak, and John moved to help her up. If she couldn't stand, then she'd be dragged or kicked until she did stand, so John helped her. He grabbed her gently by her arms and helped her to her feet before they were none too gently coerced further down the hall.

John had his own share of problems, cuts and bruising were most common on his body, but he was positive he'd a cracked rib or two, and the fact that he couldn't see out of his left eye was also greatly disturbing.

"Sit." One of the men ordered gruffly as he shoved John, and indirectly Michelle, onto a blanket on the floor. John levered himself up and saw a sort of camera, distinctly Genii in make, directed at them.

"State you name and designation." The same captor ordered, "Demand your people give us the one you call, Fergon Pothin, or we will kill you. The girl first, you after." A pause as the man seemed to turn the camera on and then, "Now, Lantean."

John looked into the eyes of the camera and didn't speak. He heard a gun cock, and saw at the corner of his eye a guard take aim at the young scientist.

"Atlantis, this is Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Airforce." He began with a haggard scratch that he was sure made itself known through the quality of his voice, "To my left is Doctor Michelle Debroux, a Russian astrophysicist and engineer." He coughed and stared into the camera again, "I give this message under duress: Our captors demand that you hand over Fergon Pothin or we will be shot and killed."

At that moment, John looked sharply at the leader of the goons, who simply stared and waited. It was unnerving, and after what seemed to be several minutes, Michelle spoke up.

"_Dzhon, chto proishodit?_"

The resounding gunshot was deafening and John was sure he could feel his heart stop as he saw the doctor slump, blood pooling from her abdomen. The shock lasted all but a second before John had jumped into action and placed a unholy amount of pressure onto the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.

"Mikey?" He shouted, "Mikey?"

Her eyes found him before rolling into the back of her skull, "Don't die on me, Doc!" He barked, but it was useless, she was unconscious and soon to be dead if they didn't get medical attention.

John turned sharply to the one who shot her, "Why?" He demanded, "Why did you do that?"

"She was obsolete."

**Read and review? I could really use some positive feedback. **

**MV**


	2. The Epilogue

**I got a lot of requests to add to the fic, and as a response - and as a response, this was born. Truth be told, I never planned on figuring out how John (or Mikey if she survived) got out of the Genii's evil clutches, I just knew he did.**

**Also, I was tired and had just done an exhausting Spanish Oral Review so I was coming off an adreniline high. As a result, this is no where near as dark as the first on is and it just sort of tells you what happens in case you were curious. **

**The story really did end in the last chapter. I'm just adding this in here because I love you guys. **

He held his head in his hands, and gripped his hair. _How could he just do that? She was just a kid… _He kept replaying the incident that occurred over five hours ago in his head, looking for anything he could've done differently to save her. It was painful too, especially when he found that nothing he did would've changed the outcome. It simply was the Genii had no use for a 'brain damaged' 17 year old scientist save for making her a example of what they would do to John if they didn't get their prisoner exchange.

He stood and moved towards the door, peering out in the eye slot that hadn't been closed. He could see the brims of two hats, signifying that two guards were posted at the entrance. That was it, there must be more down the hall, but it veered off into two different directions and were impossible to see down.

He slumped against the door and sighed, hoping that Atlantis would come soon, with lots and lots of Marines so he could be the shit out of the man that shot a 17 year old _kid. _He just couldn't wrap his head around that. True the Taliban were kinda the same in the whole, _sacrificing of children for the sake of Allah_, but seriously! They lived in _tents_. The Genii lived in underground bunkers and had nuclear capabilities. He expected better from them.

It seemed like days had gone by before anything more happened. It was any normal silent day in captivity when suddenly there was shouting and gunfire. _What? _He peered out of the eye slot and saw Ronon barreling down the tunnel, firing two shots to incapacitate the guards before unlocking the door and practically wrenching it off its hinges. It took another minute for Teyla to catch up, and another two for the Marines and Rodney to catch up with Teyla.

"Ronon?" John smirked, "It took you long enough." And he stood and left what had once been his cage and now what nothing more than a very stinky room that he would never have to see ever again. He was pleased.

"McKay got lost." Was the only explanation offered, and it was only with a glint in the taller man's eye that let John know that Ronon had obviously used this mercilessly against Rodney several times in order to piss him off and greatly amuse Ronon in the process. He'd gotten that from John, and once exposed to how fun it was to piss McKay off, one could never stop. It was something that both him and Ronon took great advantage of on a day to day basis. And we digress…

Soon with Teyla and the teams of Marines caught up they set out to make it make topside and eventually with to the Jumpers. "McKay, about Mikey…" John began once they were relatively close to the way out of the underground bunker, "She's-"

"Don't worry, Carson's got her."

Okay, _what now? _

"What?"

Rodney huffed as the Marines started climbing the ladder up and out of the bunker, "Carson, he and a bunch of Marines found her in what they pass for an infirmary on this backwater planet. She lost a lot of blood but not so much, and there was no infection so they stabilized her, and rushed her to a jumper before taking off for Atlantis. By then, Ronon had already interrogating a Genii for your location so we knew you weren't hurt and could let Carson go without any qualms."

John had no idea how Rodney got that all out in one breath, while typing on his tablet, while climbing the ladder, and while keeping eyes on Sheppard. It was a miracle that Rodney didn't pass out for suffocation and John could only be thankful for small mercies.

"So she's alive?" He asked, "And you brought_ two_ jumpers?" He sounded incredulous, but he just couldn't believe things were that easy. He and Mikey had been tortured for _weeks_, and then all of a sudden the Calvary arrives and they skip back to Atlantis with nary a worry in the world. No shooting, no arguing, no running, no pain or drama or stress or death or trauma or blood or _anything. _

McKay looked irritated at having to repeat himself, "Yes, she's alive and yes, we brought _two_ - dare I say it - _two _jumpers. I _told _Elizabethit was overkill, but does she listen to me? _Noooooo. _

Seriously, I'm the smartest guy in _two _galaxies! Is it so much trouble to ask for a little respect? Really?"

John had difficulties hiding his smirk as he settled into the back of the jumper. Lorne was already at the pilot's seat and took off once everyone was inside. "So how'd you find us?"

Rodney went from irritation to smug so fast, John was sure the man pulled something, but if he did, McKay showed no indication of it as went off in a tirade about his "magnificent genius" and his

"massive intellect". He went off on how he triangulated the position of his subcutaneous transmitter by using _wraith _hive ships to find and locate the signal all without their knowledge. In fact,

the only reason they found John at all was because of yesterday's culling.

By the time Rodney was done, John and every man, women, and marine on the puddlejumper (save Major Lorne of course) was fast asleep. Needless to say he was miffed.

However, it did lead to manly man-bonding between the haughty astrophysicist and John's 2IC as they were the only ones awake for the six hours it took to get back to Atlantis as they were near a week's walk away from the Stargate.

Once they landed, everyone woke up and headed down to the infirmary for post-mission check up and John's badly needed and strangely mandatory physical. While checking him over, Carson confirmed that Mikey was going to be okay, and up and running around in no time at all, after at least two weeks of recuperating of course, that much was given. After all, _she was shot. _

Oh! And she could speak English again, once more thankful for small mercies, John promptly passed out. After all, _he was tortured_ (and McKay still ranting might have had a small part to play too… maybe…).

**And please review, because I wrote this only because you asked and would like to know what you think of this small epilogue. :)**


End file.
